COLIN SOARES
I saw her first.
A few metres away.
Her hair is longer now, descending all the way to the small of her back, where the narrowest part of her waist is. It's the same rich, chestnut colour with streaks of red when it hits the sun, and I knew she'd always keep it natural. She had the eyes of an innocent, lost puppy, and no doubt her purity hasn't worn off.
Ten metres away.
Her friends seem excited to be here. A strawberry blonde girl recklessly vaults into the pool the moment they came in. Another person followed. A tall guy with mahogany hair hesitates, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to leave her. She urges him to go, and then enters the house with a forced, yet oddly fascinating smile.
Five metres away.
I follow her in casually, not to seem like a stalker. The moment I find her someone's already offering her alcohol. Never have I been so sure in my life. She obviously thinks it's juice.
"You might not want to drink that," I say.
Fifteen centimetres away.
She turns around, and I wonder if I've startled her. But she looks up so we are face to face, and I still see the exact same person after so many years. We meet gazes, and her hazel eyes bear into mine like how Cupid's bow would for a heart.
I think, Damn, she's beautiful.
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My hands are wrinkly and rough, but we stay in the pool, now playing Wet T-shirt Relay. We've accumulated into a group of thirty. Right now it's Andrew's turn to verse Eli, and so far he's struggling to put on a soaked red shirt. Eli gets a head start. Our group cheers loudly for him, while the other team encourages Andrew, teaching him tricks that do not seem to work.
In the mansion music is blearing. I think a band must be playing, and they sound pretty good, contemporary and experienced. It has turned into a cocktail lounge and dance floor, with everyone swaying their hips and dancing on one another. Half are wasted, while the other half just seem to be eccentrically normal.
After the game which we have proudly won, a few people leave to lounge on the deck. Everyone's tired but the party ambience remains. Eli, Celine, Andrew, and I decide to join the crowd inside. But I can't find my dress.
"Wolf, I left my dress here, right?" I say, pointing at the spot. "It's not here. You think someone took it?"
"Possible. It's fine, you can take my shirt." He hands it to me, and because he's Eli I gladly accept it with a thank you.
"Tell me if you get cold though."
"If you come and give me a hug I won't make you feel as bad." He wears his sly smile.
"I would, but I don't feel that bad for you," I joke, returning the same canny grin.
"Well then, I can always find another girl to give me warmth." I raise an eyebrow.
"Who could possibly be warmer that me?"
"I would say you're second to Cruella." We laugh, and I hug his bare chest, rubbing his back for friction and heat. His skin is cool, surely from the chilly night wind.
By the entrance there are students offering cocktails. Aquamarine liquor looks exquisite and fancy in a triangular wine glass with exotic fruits on the side. I don't accept it though, and neither does Celine, but the guys each take one.
YOU ARE READING
The Official Beauty Rules (according to Claire Mintz)
Fiksi Remaja"Who are you, really?" I look at the scenery, forcing myself not to meet his eyes. "Colin Soares. Seventeen years old, turning eighteen this September. Lead singer and guitarist of a band." "That doesn't really tell me anything." "Maybe that's...
